Post by chickenfoot on Oct 28, 2009 17:25:31 GMT -5
Day: Oct. 28
Time: Night
Location: Unknown
Hank walked down the empty street, the cold winds of Autumn tugged at his hair as if trying to rip it off. The low moans of the Infected were barely discernible over the rapid beating of his heart, and in the distance the sorrowful cries of the Witch left Hank with what could have been described as pity. But before it could take a hold in his chest a low rustling came from a nearby alley. Instinctively his had wrapped around the cold steel of his .357 Magnum, it gave him a feeling of comfort to know that one well aimed shot could silence even the wails of a Witch. Quietly Hank drew the revolver from it's holster and crept towards the alley. He was assaulted by the stench of rotten flesh and almost gagged, but he still continued. Nearing a turn in the long, dark alley, he swung around the corner and was thrown backwards, pinned to the ground by a Hunter. The creature leaned in close to him and sniffed, Hank could smell it's putrid breath. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his revolver, in one swift motion he shoved the weapon between the empty sockets of his captor eyes and squeezed. The Hunter flew backwards and landed in a heap. Hank pulled himself to his feet and wiped the remains of the Hunters head from his face. He knew that that shot would attract all Infected in the area, he had to run, he had to hide.
Time: Night
Location: Unknown
Hank walked down the empty street, the cold winds of Autumn tugged at his hair as if trying to rip it off. The low moans of the Infected were barely discernible over the rapid beating of his heart, and in the distance the sorrowful cries of the Witch left Hank with what could have been described as pity. But before it could take a hold in his chest a low rustling came from a nearby alley. Instinctively his had wrapped around the cold steel of his .357 Magnum, it gave him a feeling of comfort to know that one well aimed shot could silence even the wails of a Witch. Quietly Hank drew the revolver from it's holster and crept towards the alley. He was assaulted by the stench of rotten flesh and almost gagged, but he still continued. Nearing a turn in the long, dark alley, he swung around the corner and was thrown backwards, pinned to the ground by a Hunter. The creature leaned in close to him and sniffed, Hank could smell it's putrid breath. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his revolver, in one swift motion he shoved the weapon between the empty sockets of his captor eyes and squeezed. The Hunter flew backwards and landed in a heap. Hank pulled himself to his feet and wiped the remains of the Hunters head from his face. He knew that that shot would attract all Infected in the area, he had to run, he had to hide.